


Berserker

by Ejensen99999



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:46:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejensen99999/pseuds/Ejensen99999





	Berserker

The two men sat at the bar, drinking the beer in the sparkling glasses in front of them, but mostly talking. In hushed voices, they leaned close together during certain points of their conversation. Sometimes they would speak aloud, as if what they had to say didn’t matter if everyone heard them, but they would soon dive back into whispers. Some who sat near them would try to listen to what they had to say, only catching a few words. But those words led them no closer to finding out what the subject of their conversation was, or why it was so secretive. Only the barman could get actual sentences out of them, but it only seemed to make everything more confusing. The conversation the two men shared was on a whole new level.  
“She’s just a kid. I’m not going to do that.”  
“But we need her. She’s stronger than she looks. And besides, if we don’t get her out of that hell hole, she’s going to die.”  
“What is this kid worth to you, Greg? You’ve never met her and you work for that “hell hole,” in case you don’t remember.”  
“Come on, Jack, please. I’m sick of watching people like her die. They had nothing to do with any of this, but they are being tortured, experimented on, and treated like guinea pigs until they die on the operating table. That nearly happened to her. And like you said, she’s just a kid. She didn’t deserve the things that happened to her, what’s still happening to her.”  
“Well what did happen to her that made you go all warm and fuzzy?” Greg shifted around uncomfortably on his seat next to the bar. He grabbed his drink and took a sip, trying to calm down his shaking hands. He turned back to Jack with a sad expression.  
“She woke up while her entire torso was being cut in half, but that didn’t stop them from operating. The operation took three hours and she was awake for every single second. She screamed and screamed, but all they did was tie her down and stick a gag in her mouth. I was there for the entire thing. She’s supposed to be dead, but here she is five years later... And they’re still experimenting.”  
Jack sighed and looked down at the photo Greg had given him. What he saw was a happy and very pretty eighteen year old with green eyes and curly red hair. All of their test subjects were red heads. They never mentioned why, but it was always the red heads that were their main target. It was why they took Jack when he was only a kid, but that was years ago. He had grown old and lost his red hair long ago.  
“What’s her name?” Jake asked.  
“Subject 9576.” Jack looked at him, confused for a moment. “She’s just a test subject to them, remember?” Greg answered, reluctantly. Of course, he remembered, but it felt weird to recall people as numbers again, and he remembered his old number. It made him feel more like an object.  
The girl had a great big smile with straight teeth and though her smile was convincing, her eyes were not. She had the kind of eyes that told everyone she couldn’t sleep. She had nightmares, just like him. But this wasn’t a picture from her file. File pictures were mostly taken before and after operations. This was a school picture, one that went in yearbooks. That meant she wasn’t a prisoner.  
“Looks like she’s fine to me. She’s escaped and is still alive. Doesn’t need my help.” Jack said in his gruff, deep voice. He rolled back his massive shoulders and took a deep drink. Although he was old, he was far from frail. He was tall, strong, and huge. Jack was the size of a construction worker, one that lifted iron and steel beams weighing hundreds of pounds without much effort. Greg was another matter altogether. Not much higher than 5’ 7” and barely half the width of Jack was Greg. To go along with that, he had a strong British accent, despite him being in America. He also had short blond hair with a somewhat pig like nose.  
“She’s escaped, has she? Are you sure about that?” Greg muttered under his breath just loud enough for Jake to hear him. Jack turned to him as Greg downed the last of his drink. He wasn’t one for drinking, but he needed some kind of relief. Even though it was only going to make things worse, he could have one moment of ignorance. After all, ignorance is bliss, right?  
“Then… they let her go.” Greg laughed and bowed his head as he handed back his glass to the barman so he could refill it. Jack looked at Greg as if he had lost his mind. Greg turned back to Jake, a sad smile barely maintained and his eyes red.  
“You know very well what they do to those they “let go.” She’s still alive, but… but she’s not safe.” Greg covered his eyes with his hand and leaned against the counter. Jack had never seen him break down like this. He felt awkward and had no idea what to do, so he raised his large, burly hand and placed it on Greg’s shaking shoulder. Greg had always seemed so straight forward and aversive. He had never been in a serious relationship; every girl he dated said he showed no sign of affection. But here he was, crying with his face in his hands. What had she done to him? He thought, going over every possibility that could explain this. Nothing worked. Greg had no family. So why did she matter?  
Greg lifted his face out of his hand and breathed in deeply, trying to compose himself. The barman placed the refilled glass in front of him, but Jack grabbed it before Greg could and sent it sliding down the counter top, hitting the arm of a drunk who had passed out on the counter.  
“Oh no. I think you’ve had too much to drink. If you have any more, you’ll be singing and dancing with pink elephants by the end of the night,” he said. Jack wanted to cheer him up, but the attempt was half-hearted.  
“I’m serious, Jack. She’s in trouble and she doesn’t know it. No one she knows cares enough to warn her about what is going to happen to her. She doesn’t even know what she is.” Greg sniffed, and wiped away his eyes. He had finally cracked.  
“What happened to you, Greg? You’ve never been one for having feelings. I thought that’s why you worked for them.”  
“It was. Every single person there has no humanity in them at all. They are heartless monsters, and anyone who doesn’t share their intellect is nothing more than another object. Another potential weapon. I used to feel the same way.” He paused, trying to maintain his voice, his eyes watering. “But… when… when she woke up… while she was being operated on. She looked at me. She was horrified, and she asked me for help. But I pretended as though I didn’t notice.” Now he paused for several minutes, burying his face in his folded arms on the counter. It took a long time before he could continue.  
“The surgeon looked at her,” he said, not caring that he was crying as he talked, “and just sighed. The primary cut had already been made, and he turned to the nurse next to him and told him to find some rope and cloth so they could continue operating. Within a few seconds, she was tied down, but she broke one of the ropes. I had to hold her arm down, but she kept fighting.” Greg started laughing again and pointed to his ribs. “She broke four of my ribs and gave me a hairline fracture in my sternum. I shouldn’t have been so close.”  
Jack remembered Greg telling him about his ribs, but he never mentioned what happened. Guess she did.  
“They’re testing how a berserker would behave in the real world.” Jack’s eyes widened and stared at Greg in horror. They must have lost their minds, letting a berserker out to live in this kind of world. Jack had a hard time adjusting to normal life. He’d been trained to kill since he was only a little kid. There had been accidents. Horrible accidents where he had lost control, gotten angry because of something stupid. He was still adjusting, but he had become accustomed to this stupid world and its stupid residents. He could control his rage, to some extent, but he hadn’t killed anyone in years.  
“What are they thinking?” Jack asked in a hushed voice. “How long has she been out?”  
“Two years. They wiped her memory of everything before that, but she has still had the training. Everything in her life is staged. Everyone she knows is part of it. Even her family is fake. The only exception is her school, where the… casualties… have occurred.”  
“Oh no.” Jack bowed his head, only imagining what she had done to them. And what it had done to her. “How many?” Greg remained silent as Jack glared at him. “Greg. Tell me now. How many people has she killed?” Greg held up both his hands, all his fingers extended except for one.  
“Nine?! She’s killed nine?!” Jack whispered, glancing around to make sure no one had heard him. Greg nodded grimly, his eyes closed and his hands, interlocked, pressed against his mouth.  
“All were full-grown men. Five were huge guys who tried to rape her and the other four were trying to stop her from killing them.” Greg stopped talking, but there was obviously more to be said, so Jack waited for him to continue. “She crushed four of their skulls against the pavement, and snapped three of their necks. And the other two died from her shattering their ribcages and driving the broken bones into their heart and lungs. With her knee.”  
Jack couldn’t believe what he had heard. He looked again at the girl in the photo. She was thin. She didn’t look strong enough to lift more than fifty pounds, but that was one of the secrets of the berserker.  
“She doesn’t remember what she did to them, thank heavens. But it’s going to get worse. Her “psychiatrist” is prescribing her medications that are supposed to help with her depression and insomnia, but in reality, it’s only making it worse. They are isolating her, and are testing her reactions to problems, such as the rape setup. She…”  
“They set up a rape attempt?” Jack asked. Greg nodded, and continued.  
“Yes. The first five were to see if she could be overtaken and the other four were to see if she could be stopped. According to the Head Official, she passed with flying colors.” Jack rested his head on his palm, not believing what they were doing. Sure, they had been cruel when he was one of their guinea pigs, but this was insane. They had never done anything like this.  
“What are they trying to do? Turn her into a weapon? Make her so insane that she kills everyone that looks at her?”  
“That’s exactly what they’re trying to do. The main goal of their organization is to create the perfect weapon. Intelligent, strong, capable, resourceful, and unstoppable. And with her, it seems as though they may have reached it,” Greg muttered with hatred in his voice. He had lost his sensible moment and had reverted back to being hard-edged and serious. “I’m supposed to retrieve her and bring her back for more testing.”  
“This can’t happen anymore.” Jack whispered. “It’s wrong, and if you don’t have much of a conscience, then it’s unconstitutional.”  
“Don’t you remember, or have you grown too old, Jack? They consider themselves above the Constitution. Using that kind of bull talk will never stop them from doing what they’ve always done. That’s why we have to play by their rules. So are you going to help me then, Jack?” Greg asked. Jack looked down at his drink and decided. There was almost a certainty he was going to get killed and the plan completely fail, with or without her help. How could he resist?

 

Subject 9567, more commonly known as Ezra, laid on her bed face down. She felt horrible and nothing was helping much at all. Only about six weeks ago, she had killed nine people. But she didn’t even remember it. How could she cause all of that destruction without a single memory of it? Her psychiatrist told her that it was stress and that was her brains’ way of relieving it. How was killing people a way of relieving stress? But then again, it wasn’t the only account where she had lost her memory.  
Ezra sat up and looked out the window of her bedroom. In a few hours, the sun would start setting over the small, little town she lived in. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone else, and one person was another person’s second cousin thrice removed. But no one looked alike. She didn’t even look like her own parents. Ezra couldn’t help getting the feeling that it was all a big joke.  
She stood up and walked out of her room, trudging down the stairs. She was tired of sitting in the house all day. She needed to do something. Other than moping around the house. As she entered the kitchen, Ezra noticed a letter hanging on the door of the fridge. It was from her mom, letting her know that she was out shopping and her dad was going to be late for work. Perfect. Ezra put the letter back on the fridge and ran out her front door. She didn’t bother to put any shoes on, but she didn’t care. She hated shoes and found it much more comfortable to walk around barefooted.  
Besides, how could she let a moment like this slip by? Ever since the incident happened, her parents have kept her inside, keeping her away from everyone she knew. But now the moment had arrived, she took it, and went for a long, quiet walk. She didn’t have any friends and with the incident, she had become more isolated than ever. She strolled around before she pulled the IPod from her pocket and put in the ear phones. But she didn’t turn on any music. She had learned that people say very interesting things when they think you can’t hear them. She had heard a good many secrets that way, and it also helped her know when someone was following her.  
Ezra had gotten into the habit of walking around without any shoes on, mostly because it was quiet and she could hear if there were any other footsteps that didn’t belong to her. And the ear phones made it look as though she couldn’t hear them.  
She strolled around, not really caring where she was going and not really paying attention to where she was heading. She just needed to get out of her house. Everything had gotten weird since what happened, and it was already weird before that. Two years ago, and she had apparently gotten into a car crash, hitting her head and erasing her entire memory of her life before that. Ezra had tried so hard to remember what her life was like before that, but nothing ever came back. All she remembered was waking up in the hospital and a doctor telling her she had some brain trauma. She had gone through counseling’s and all kinds of ways to try and remember.  
Her parents had told her all sorts of stories about her when she was a kid, but none of it connected. Not one single piece of what they told her rang any bells, and it didn’t sound true. Ezra had always had a knack for telling if people were lying, whether if she could hear it in their voice or if it shone on their face, she could always tell. She had been feeling as though everyone she knew was lying to her face about everything. Another thing that made her suspicious about everything that was going on was the town itself.  
There were no old people. Everyone was in their thirties and forties. No one was older or younger than that except Ezra. And they all stared at her as though she was going to do something unexpected, but they weren’t supposed to do anything about it. And it wasn’t just recently that this was happening. They had been doing this for the past two years. And nothing changed when she killed those people. If anything they just became more interested. Not even her psychiatrist did anything about it. He just looked at her and smiled when she came in his office the following morning. As though she had done nothing of the kind.  
Ezra couldn’t help but feel targeted. There was something wrong about everything in her life, but nothing stood out. Ezra had been thinking about it all month, trying to see it, and she couldn’t just sit around to do it. Which was why she was out walking around. While she thought about all the possibilities, she looked at the ground and stared at her bare feet, when she noticed a shadow creeping up from behind her. She hadn’t heard any footprints, so whoever it was was deliberately trying to be stealthy. She looked up and started humming as though her favorite song had come on, acting as though she didn’t know anyone was following her. She drummed her fingers on a railing that ran alongside of her, trying to look absentminded and bored.  
She had walked into the abandoned playground, and thoughts of how to deal with this person rang through her head. But she didn’t know if he was following her or not, so she had to find out. Ezra started heading down a street that led away from the playground, thinking of a route that would lead her in a big, complicated circle and would end back at the playground. If he was just heading somewhere that meant going the same way she was going for a short amount of time, he wouldn’t end up back with her at the playground. But if he was following her, then she would confront him back where it started. She took a hard left, speeding up as she went around the corner. She slowed down as she heard him come around the corner. She trailed her hands along the wall and looked up at the tops of the buildings as she passed them.  
Ezra took several turns, bending right followed by a smooth left, steadily speeding up as she went along. She could hear him panting behind her, trying to keep up, his footsteps becoming loud and clumsy. Before long, they were back at the playground. Ezra circled the border of it until she could see both of their shadows out of the corner of her eye. He was only about five feet behind her. She stopped walking, idly shifting a wood chip with her foot. He slowed down, but he didn’t stop. He outstretched his hand, reaching for her shoulder.  
Just before he could touch her, Ezra whirled around and grabbed him by the shoulders, flinging him against a wall not too far away. He hit the wall harder than she intended, but she wasn’t going to stop and apologize for that. She followed him closely, pinning him against the wall before he could do anything to retaliate. She glared at him as she held his shoulders tight against the wall, and he looked back at her, terror written all over his face.  
“Are you going to tell me why you were following me, or am I going to have to hurt you first?” she said, bringing her voice down so that it sounded low and hostile. He raised his hands, trying to show he meant no harm, but Ezra didn’t relax for one second. His throat twitched, as if he was trying to form the words before he opened his mouth. Ezra continued to glare at him, demanding an answer. He gulped and opened his mouth choking out the words.  
“You’re in trouble,” he said in a strong British accent, shaking as he spoke.  
“So are you if you don’t tell me more than that.” He nodded, sweat beading his face. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely scared of her or if it was from running after her. He kept his hands raised as he continued to talk.  
“My name is Greg Lawrence, and I’m so sorry if I’ve made you angry. But you have to listen to me. Don’t trust anyone.” Ezra twitched her head to the right, indicating she was confused and he needed to keep talking. “Everyone you know can’t be trusted. Not even your family. I’m supposed to kidnap you, but I’m here to warn you. When your parents call you down to talk with you, and you find me and your psychiatrist in the front room, run. Don’t ask questions, don’t say anything, just run.” Ezra looked at him with wide eyes, either this was a great big joke or he was telling the truth. She started backing up, freaked out more than she could tell. How did he know she had a psychiatrist? Was he some sort of stalker, or was he being serious?  
“Stop talking to your psychiatrist, and stop taking the pills he prescribes to you. He can’t be trusted.”  
“How do I know I can trust you? Why should I listen to you anyway?” asked Ezra. She could feel her heart pounding inside her chest, fear taking hold of her and she wasn’t sure what to do about this.  
“You shouldn’t. But don’t tell your parents about me. Pretend you never saw me. Just run,” he said. Ezra turned and did just that. She ran until she had made it home. She barged through the door and slammed it behind her, locking it and every window she passed. She flung herself onto her couch and laid there, face crushing into the soft fabric. Questions swam through her head, demanding her attention, but she tried to ignore them. She just wanted to be like any other girl in the world, but this seemed so impossible. She wanted to cry and cry ‘til she fell asleep, but no tears came. There was so much pressing down on her shoulders and crying seemed to be the only way out of it. She couldn’t talk to her parents about it, no matter how hard she tried. There was just no connection between them.  
And with what had just happened with Greg Lawrence, it made talking about it with her psychiatrist not an option. If she could trust Greg, if that was his name, then her psychiatrist was a fake, and so were the pills she took. Ezra popped her head out of the couch, an idea forming in her head. The pills. Her psychiatrist had told her to take them quickly because, according to him, they tasted horrendous. But Ezra never found them disgusting. She had always thought they were quite sweet.  
Ezra picked herself up from the couch and ran over to the medicine cabinet, taking out her prescription pills. Four small, orange bottles stood on the counter after Ezra had closed the cabinet. They were supposed to help with her anxiety, depression, insomnia, and paranoia, but her sleep was as awful as ever and, if anything, it had gotten worse. And the same could be said for the others. She grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer, and took a pill from each bottle. Placing each pill in front of her, she smashed each one of them, one after the other, except for her insomnia medication, which was a small capsule. But she quickly pulled the halves apart.  
There were four small piles of fine white powder lying in front of Ezra, and she lightly tapped her pointer finger into the first pile on her left. She lifted it up right to her mouth and licked the tip of her finger. Ezra waited, trying to distinguish the incredible sweet taste. As her mind found the answer, she started a cruel, deep laugh. She hung her head as she laughed louder and became more menacing. She couldn’t believe it. Powdered sugar.  
Powdered sugar was the fine substance inside the pill. As she tried each one, she found it in each crushed pill. Powdered sugar was apparently the universal solvent for mental diseases. How impressive. She clutched the edge of the counter, laughter no longer escaping her throat. She glared at the space in front of her, not focusing on anything particular. She just felt so angry. Her gaze shifted to the remainder of the phony pills, and her vision blurred. Ezra screamed, but with the tone of anger, not terror, and swiped everything off the counter. She pounded her fists on the counter, heard a loud crack, and plunged her head into her forearms. She wanted to calm down, but it felt so good to just lose control.  
But she remembered what happened to those people and how losing control cost them their lives. She took deep breaths and closed her eyes. She remembered when she woke up from the blackout, her hands and clothes covered in blood. She glanced around, looking at their corpses, not knowing what happened. Now tears poured out her eyes, huge tears pushing past her eyelids, and running down her arms. She pulled away from the counter, hands dragging along the smooth, marble counter. But her hands felt a ledge in the flawless counter. She lifted her eyes and looked at the counter.  
She pulled away in shock as Ezra observed the monstrous, webbed cracked that spread throughout the counter. There were two large points where her fists had hit the counter, but she couldn’t believe that she had done that. It shouldn’t have happened, but here it was right in front of her. Ezra ran her hands over the large cracks, noticing how much it had sunk. Her hands and wrists began to ache as she pulled them away, and Ezra covered her mouth with them. The counter was two inches thick, but she had broken it has if it was a quarter inch thick slab of dry wall. How was she doing this?  
Ezra clutched at her head, grabbing her hair, and sank to the ground. What’s happening? She thought. What’s wrong with me? She didn’t know what to do, and she didn’t understand why she was able to do these things. Tears gushed down her cheeks, staining her face.  
Her psychiatrist was a liar, and the only person she felt she could trust was someone Ezra had just barely met. Someone who had followed her around, and who knew a lot about her without actually meeting her. Ezra knew she should be skeptical of him and probably call the police, but he was the only one whose voice rang any sort of truth. After hearing lies for two years, it felt good to listen to something besides that.  
Ezra took in a deep breath, and leaned back. She wiped her eyes and stood up. She needed to clean up before her parents got home, but there was nothing she could do about the counter. She picked up the fake pills and threw them in the garbage. There was no reason to keep them. Of course her parents were going to ask if she was taking them, but if they lied, she was going to play their game too. They were also going to ask about the counter, but Ezra would just tell them she blacked out again and didn’t remember what happened. Ezra began to think about what Greg had told her, and a phrase suck out in her mind.  
Everyone you know can’t be trusted. Not even your parents. If he was right about her psychiatrist, was he right about her parents? It didn’t mean that everything he said was true, but was it? Her psychiatrist was a fake, why not her parents? Could she trust them? Should she trust Greg was probably the more important question. If Ezra could trust him, then someone was going to try and kidnap her. If she couldn’t, then… she didn’t know. There was a lot about her life that was wrong, and needed explanation. Ezra decided to trust him.

҉

As she finished picking everything off the floor and putting them back on the counter where they belonged, Ezra heard the latch on the front door click open.  
“Hi I’m home, sweetie,” called her mom. Ezra gave a brief smile before she came around the corner to greet her mom. Then she put on her best actress face and squeaked out.  
“Mom… something bad’s happened,” she said, making her voice seem choked out and on the edge of tears. She stared at the counter as if someone’s head was placed in the center of it. She ran her hands through her hair and down her face as her mom came around the corner.  
“What are you talking about? What’s hap…” she stopped talking as she saw the counter in shattered pieces, barely staying together. The groceries in her hand dropped to the ground. Ezra turned to her, hands trembling and eyes tearing up. Her mom looked at her as if she was a monster.  
“Mom… what’s happening?” tears running down Ezra’s face. “What’s wrong with me?” Her mom opened her mouth and closed it, nothing coming out. She just stared at her and the counter, switching her gaze every once in a while. Ezra could tell what she was thinking, it was so easy. It wouldn’t be more obvious if it was written on a billboard above her head. And she used it to her advantage.  
“I… I blacked out again. I was just in here… in… in the kitchen… And… and I blacked out,” Ezra stumbled out her words, deliberately putting spaces between them and repeating phrases. It made her seem more innocent and freaked out. “I don’t know what happened, I just… I just blacked out. I don’t remember anything. I… Mom what am I going to do?”  
Her mom tried to give a sympathetic look, but it seemed like poor acting. She slowly walked towards Ezra, arms outstretched, offering a hug. Ezra quickly ran over and hugged her back, but her little scene wasn’t over yet. She still had so much to do.  
“Mom. I killed those people. I killed them and I don’t remember it. Who’s to stay I’m not done killing people?” Her mom hugged her tightly, but it was an empty hug. There was no love in it at all, so Ezra decided to deliver the final blow. “What if I end up killing you?”  
She stiffened. Her mom pulled away from Ezra, and began backing up.  
“What did you say? What are you going to do to me?” her mom choked out. Ezra observed her reaction. There was no way a real mom would act like this. A real mom would hug her tighter, pet her hair, and try to soothe her. But she was backing up, trying to get away from her. Ezra dropped her scared face and pulled on her glare, staring at her so-called mom with hate.  
“Are you my mom?” she asked. Ezra’s “mom” glanced at her as if she didn’t know what she was talking about, but she didn’t protest.  
“I’ll ask again. Are you my mom?” Again, she didn’t answer. “That’s a ‘no’ then, isn’t it, mom?” her “mom” stared down at the floor, as if she had failed a test. A sick, perverted test to see if she could pull off being Ezra’s mom. Just as Ezra opened her mouth to say something, the doorbell rang. Her gaze turned towards the door, and back at her “mom”, warning with her eyes to stay put.  
Ezra walked to the front door and opened it, finding her psychiatrist in the doorway. Ezra looked at him in shock. He wasn’t supposed to know where they lived, much less come to her house. He appeared alone, but a figure popped his head out from behind him. It was Greg.  
Dr. Halloway, which was the name of her psychiatrist, was an elderly man, but had a sort of ageless quality about him. He smiled at Ezra, and spoke.  
“Hello Ezra. I would like to introduce my colleague, Greg Lawrence. We have some things we would like to discuss with you. May we come in?” He gestured towards Greg behind him, and Ezra looked at him. He looked at her with big, scared eyes and mouthed the word “run”.  
Ezra turned around and bolted for the kitchen. As she ran, she could hear footsteps running after her. Grabbing the wall, she slid around the corner. She was aiming for the window on the far side of the kitchen, but she wasn’t going to reach it in time before she was caught. Whoever was chasing her was faster than she would have liked. So Ezra changed her target and headed upstairs to her room. There was a window in there that lead to the roof. She would be able to find a way down from there.  
Leaping three steps at a time, she reached the top of the stairs, ran into her room, slamming and locking the door behind her. Seconds later, after the twisting of the handle, they started ramming the door. Ezra turned around and threw open the window and started climbing out of it. The door behind her crashed open, splinters flying from the busted door frame. She hurried trying to get out of the window before they could get her. Ezra was nearly all the way out when a sharp object stabbed into the back of her thigh. She cried out and wrenched her leg out of the window. It was a huge syringe sticking out of her leg, probably filled with a sedative. She grabbed it and pulled it out, the needle being two inches long. After she had did so, someone’s hand reached out of the window, searching for her leg.  
Ezra, wanting to stall them from catching her, raised the needle above her head and plunged the needle threw the person’s hand, pinning it to the ledge outside the window. As they screamed, Ezra picked herself up and ran up the roof and to the side of it. She planned to jump from her house to the next. Her house was a full story taller than the neighboring house, so it made the jump seem more possible, but it was at least ten feet across. But there was no other way down that was more inviting. Besides, the neighbors had a pool in their backyard that Ezra would be able to jump into to reach the ground ten feet below her.  
Ezra backed away from the edge, wanting to get a running jump. As she became about fifteen feet from the edge of the roof, she ran. But as she did so, something sharp hit her neck. But she kept running, not wanting to stop and lose her chance. She jumped, sailing through the air, and made the jump, but the roof creaked below her, threatening to give way. Ezra kept running along it, curving towards the edge. She leaped off, landing dead center in the pool. At first, Ezra was blinded, bubbles swirling around her. But she swam towards what she thought was up, and burst through the water. The edge of the pool was a ways away, and Ezra was never a strong swimmer. But she headed for it anyways, desperate to get out.  
She reached the edge of the pool and pulled herself up. Ezra felt her neck and found a ball of fluff, limp from the water. What had hit her was a tranquilizer dart, and that, combined with the shot, she was going to be really dozy in a moment. And it had hit her in the neck, meaning the tranquilizer would reach her brain faster, and react quicker.  
Her vision was already blurring around the edges. She shook her head, trying to wake herself up, and ran for the far side of the yard, planning to jump the fence. She reached it, no problem, when she was hit with another dart in her arm. She hauled herself over the fence, her wet clothes dragging her down. She was able to get over, but she collapsed on the ground, hitting it head first. Ezra tried to get up, but she felt so tired, and her body felt so heavy. Someone tall and thin walked towards her, but with Ezra’s vision being so blurry, it just looked like a three-dimensional shadow. Her eyes blurred completely and she sank into oblivion.


End file.
